


The Bear Stays

by CommaSplice



Series: Aegon Targaryen Memorial Library Universe [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommaSplice/pseuds/CommaSplice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Brienne comes down with a killer cold, she is nursed back to health by an overprotective Jaime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bear Stays

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Chapter 38 of Game of Stacks. It should stand on its own, though. For those of you who haven't read that work: Brienne is a librarian and works with Olenna, Stannis, and Ned. She's living with Jaime, and Tywin approves of and likes her. There, you're caught up.

* * *

Brienne ignored the looks the students and faculty were giving her at the reference desk. She just had a little cold.

“Is there anything of which I should be made aware?” Stannis inquired when he relieved her.

“It was a very quiet shift.” Brienne started to get up and was irritated when Stannis backed away from her. She sneezed violently.

“I cannot afford to become ill,” he said a trifle apologetically. “Not with a household of six people.”

Brienne understood, but she thought he was taking it too far when he began spraying and wiping down the desk, the chair, and the phone with Lysol. Sniffling and sneezing, she made her way back to her office. She had just sat down when Olenna appeared in her doorway.

“Go home, Brienne.”

“I’m fine.” She sneezed loudly and violently. “We’re short staffed as it is.”

“And we’ll be in a worse situation if your illness spreads.”

Brienne grabbed a handful of tissues. “It’s just a cold,” she said stubbornly.

“I have spoken with Ned. He agrees with me. You are to go home immediately. We do not want to see you back here until you are well.” Olenna held up a hand when Brienne started to speak. “This is not a request.”

* * *

Jaime was waiting for her when she walked into the apartment. “Olenna called.”

Brienne murmured something about traitors and confidentiality at the Aegon Targaryen Memorial Library.

He ignored this and he put a hand to her forehead. “You’re warm to the touch.”

“It’s a cold,” she repeated for the umpteenth time, but her body betrayed her when she sneezed so hard she shook. 

He proffered her a box of tissues. “No, take the whole thing, wench.”

Before she knew what was happening, he was pushing her toward the bed. He dug out one of the enormous flannel nightgowns her father’s last housekeeper had bought her before Brienne had left home for uni. “I never wear that, Jaime.”

“I can see why, but you need to be kept warm.” 

Brienne had never cared much about clothes, but it was too much asking her to wear a pink flannel yoked nightgown, with ribbons across the top. “Sweat pants and a t-shirt,” she insisted.

He shook his head.

“Jaime, there are ducks on this.”

He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He plumped pillows, tucked her in, and presented her with a stuffed bear.

“Uh, Jaime?”

“His name is Ser Arthur,” Jaime informed her in a tone that did not invite comment. “No, you need to stay in the bed. I’m going to get you something to make you feel better.”

Brienne inspected Ser Arthur through bleary eyes. He had been much loved. It was unexpectedly touching that Jaime had kept a childhood teddy bear, but she wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. Finally she set him on Jaime’s side of the bed. 

Jaime appeared a moment later with several blister packs of medication and orange juice in the Scooby Doo jelly glass.

“I don’t like to take a lot of pills, Jaime.”

“Vitamin C and multi-symptom cold medicine.”

“How did you have time to go to the drugstore?”

Jaime gave her the juice glass and dropped pills into her palm. “I keep these on hand.”

She thought about the firmly packed medicine cabinet. She was either living with an extremely prepared man or a hypochondriac. 

“I mean it, wench.”

It was hard to say no to him. He was looking at her with a mixture of concern and fierceness. She swallowed the pills. 

Five minutes later he was back with hot tea. 

“Jaime, I just want to sleep.”

“It’ll make you feel better.”

It might have had it not tasted so strangely. “What in the seven hells is this?” She made a face and tried to set it down on the nightstand.

Jaime picked it up and handed the mug to her again. “This is an herbal remedy that will help you fight your cold.”

“It tastes awful.”

“Medicine isn’t supposed to taste good. I remember Mother saying so.” 

She drank the tea. 

“That’s my good girl. All right,” he said hastily after he saw her reaction. “Perhaps I took that too far.”

“Call me your good girl again and I will hurt you.”

“That’s my wench?” 

"Better."

He removed the cup and promised he would go make her some normal tea now.

She wasn't used to being waited on in this manner. At regular intervals Jaime was there with more medications, ginger ale, chicken soup and crackers, more juice, wet washcloths, more tissues, and a cheery but firm manner. Jaime refused to let her work. She needed to focus on beating the cold. When it came time for them to sleep, Jaime went into the living area with fresh bedding and his pillow. Ser Arthur the Bear would keep her company. She needed her rest, he said. 

In the morning, he allowed her to shower. When she emerged from the bathroom, he was changing the sheets on the bed and had found yet another of the hideous flannel nightgowns for her to wear. This one was blue and had a pattern of tiny bunnies on it. Brienne made a vow to throw them all out the minute she recovered. 

It was a return of the same regime of yesterday. “Jaime, you don’t need to hover. I’m not dying.”

“Listen to Dr. Jaime. All right,” he said looking at his watch. “I want you to take a nap now.”

It was very annoying, but it was oddly endearing, and she had to admit, it felt nice not to have to be the one get out of a warm bed to make tea or to clean up dirty tissues. When she awoke, the apartment was uncharacteristically quiet. She managed to find a robe and her slippers. He had said something about going to the store. Maybe he had left her alone. She could take advantage of his absence, grab her laptop, and get some work done. She peeked into the living area and jumped back when she saw his father ensconced in the arm chair with his newspaper. “Where’s Jaime?”

Tywin set his paper down. “He said he was going to the supermarket and then to the drugstore. How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.” She sneezed again. “I didn’t realize you and Jaime had a meeting.”

“He didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone.”

“It was very kind of you to come, but you don’t have to stay here. I’m fine.”

Tywin consulted a piece of paper on the coffee table. “According to this, it is time for the orange pills and a cup of herbal tea.”

She groaned. “How long before he gets back?” She sneezed again.

Tywin glanced at his watch. “He left about ten minutes ago. Judging by the list he had, it should take him at least an hour.” He stood up. “I’ll get your tea.”

She still couldn’t believe Jaime had called his father and she said so.

“I suspect I was his last option.” He spoke without rancor. “Although he said something about needing someone who would be able to take a firm hand with you and that I was perhaps the only person who might be able to get away with it and survive.”

“I appreciate you coming over, but you don’t have—” She stopped. Brienne liked Jaime’s father and she knew he liked her. “You must have other things to do.”

“I have told my children ‘no’ on multiple occasions, Brienne. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be here.” He went over to the kitchen area, inspected the stove, lit a burner, and placed the kettle over it. “You appear to be out of the tea he has listed.”

“Thank the gods.”

He seemed surprised at her relief. 

“It tastes like feet.” 

Tywin made the noise that sounded like a cough that meant he was amused. “He did not specify a backup.”

The idea that she had the wealthiest man in Westeros in her kitchen asking her what kind of tea he should prepare for her was mindboggling. “There should be some ginger lemon somewhere.” She blew her nose. 

“Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll bring this in to you.”

She sneezed again. “I’m fine.”

“No, you are not.” 

This was where Jaime got the expression from, she realized. Brienne sighed, turned around, and pausing only to rescue her laptop, padded back to the bedroom. She was about to remove the robe, but if Tywin Lannister saw her in this absurd nightgown, she would never be able to look him in the eye again. She propped the pillows and got into the bed still wearing the bathrobe. 

He came in shortly after. He set down the tea and the orange pills. His gaze fell on Ser Arthur the Bear, but before he could say anything, his phone rang. “Jaime.” There was a pause. “Yes, Brienne is awake.” He rolled his eyes. “She is taking her pills right now. Yes, she has tea.” Tywin waited. “Yes, I will make certain.” And then finally, “Jaime, I am sixty-six-years-old. I raised three children. I run an international corporation. I believe I have matters in hand.” He sighed as he turned off his phone. “Jaime would prefer you not to use your computer until you are better.”

Brienne flopped back on the pillows. “I am this close to getting into a cab and going to a hotel. This is ludicrous.”

“He takes after his mother,” Tywin told her as he picked up the laptop bag. “She was ruthless whenever I took ill. She would practically order me into the bed and then she’d hover over me like some anxious mother hen until I recovered.”

“He’s acting like I’m a terminal cancer patient.”

“You will suffer through it the way I did for the same reasons. He means well and he loves you.”

* * *

Brienne woke to find Jaime peering over her.

“How are you feeling, wench?”

“A lot better.”

His face cleared. “You look like it.” He suggested she might be up to moving to the sectional in the living area of their apartment after she showered.

When she got out of the bathroom, he was changing the sheets again. 

“Father said I might be overdoing it.”

Brienne thought about what Tywin had said. “I’m glad you’re taking such good care of me. It’s nice not having to do it all myself.” She got into a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt and added the bathrobe over the ensemble. 

“And there was something about not making you drink the cold remedy tea because it tastes like feet?”

“I could do without it.”

“He mentioned some things about Ser Arthur too.” From Jaime’s face, it was clear Tywin Lannister had said them in a particularly cutting manner.

Brienne picked Ser Arthur up protectively. “The bear stays.”

Jaime’s laugh turned into a sneeze. 

“It sounds,” Brienne said as she handed him the box of tissues, “like you’re getting a cold.”

* * *


End file.
